


Chrysalis

by titC



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Creepy-Crawlies, Ella is awesome, F/M, Gen, There's a betting pool, Trixie is magic, Whump, also one pet spider, amenadiel is trying hard, and not entirely failing, casefic, convenient mob for plot purposes, dan's phobias, random Star Trek and Spiderman references, the devil of shalott, trial by fire, trick or devil deckerstar network exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-31 22:46:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12691725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/titC/pseuds/titC
Summary: It starts with a corpse, it ends on a rebirth.Bad puns, whump, one mass and many spiders (well, it was the prompt!) in the middle.





	Chrysalis

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flutterflap](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flutterflap/gifts).



> For the Deckerstar Network Halloween Exchange Trick or Devil.  
> Written for Flutterflap and their prompt "spider" and published... horribly late.

The heat never seemed to bother Lucifer. He wore his suits even in summer, he never really seemed to sweat unless, perhaps, at times when he was overwhelmed by something else… it was unfair, and she tried not to be jealous as they circled the dead body sprawled on the pristine lawn under the unforgiving midday sun.

“Looks like, well, he choked to death.” Ella pointed at the bulging eyes, the tongue lolling out of the mouth, the hands clenched on the throat. “I mean, there could be something else on top of that, I’ll tell you for sure after I’m finished with the body, but I’d say he choked to death. Gruesome,” she said cheerfully.

“Sounds like a pretty horrible way to die,” Chloe said.

As the corpse was being loaded on a gurney, Lucifer’s eyebrows shot up. “Weeell… would you look at that, ladies?”

They all bent as one. “Yep, priapism. Already noted, don’t you worry!” Ella put her camera away after a few more shots of the spot where the body had been lying.

“Shooting for the stars, I’d assume.” Lucifer’s hand reached out to poke at the man’s groin, but Chloe caught his wrist just in time.

“Do not touch the victim’s crotch, Lucifer.”

“But – ”

“No.” She turned to Ella. “Is this a common thing? Choke to death, get a bo – ” she glared at Lucifer before turning back to Ella, “an erection?”

“It’s probably a symptom of something else. We’ll see after we review his medical history and we get the results of the autopsy and tox screen.”

“What a way to die, though!”

“Priapism is pretty painful, you know. And can lead to impotence.” Ella gave one of her evil grins as Lucifer’s eyes widened and he edged away from the body, hands clenched over his own nether parts. To be fair, Dan looked a little green himself.

“Um. While this is all rather fascinating, how is that relevant to the illustrious LAPD’s interests?”

“You didn’t read the file, did you?” Lucifer didn’t even look guilty. “He was the son of a mobster but keeping out of the family business, at least officially. Narcotics kept in touch with him in case he could give them some intel, and we can’t rule out yet it wasn’t a natural death.”

“Natural? Natural death? Is that how you humans put it?”

“ _Lucifer_.” He grinned and wandered away to the house itself, hands now in his pockets, looking for all the world like a tourist gawking at the expensive houses of the rich and mighty. Chloe wondered if his own sometimes shady connections would be a help or a hindrance in this case as she watched him amble around the somewhat tacky building.

Rob Corraco had been big on Halloween. The inside of his house was full of tacky decorations: plastic witches and cardboard cutouts of black cats, pumpkin lamps and zombie-themed bedsheets in a guest bedroom. Dan glared at the fake fur-covered, spider-shaped cushions on the sofa, and of course Lucifer noticed.

“Wouldn’t the offspring love those?” Chloe barely caught his hand right before he picked one up. “Murder scene gifts inappropriate? All right, I can have some delivered at your – what?” He rubbed at his shoulder. “No need to slap me, Detective. You can use words, I do speak English.”

“No presents I haven’t vetted. We talked about this before.”

“Spiders are just disgusting anyway,” Dan said.

“Aw, no!” Evidence bag in one hand and tweezers in the others, Ella peered at the upturned mug on the coffee table. “Spiders are just misunderstood.”

“Misunderstood? Really, Ella? _Spiders are ju_ _s_ _t misunderstood_ , are you going with that?” Dan clearly didn’t agree.

“Sure. They’re useful, they hunt insects and help manage their numbers and as long as you don’t disturb them, they’ll leave you alone. They’ve got a bad rep, but really I don’t know why. I used to have a pet tarantula as a kid, until my brother Alex killed it.” She frowned at Dan’s approving smile. “He tore Gilora’s legs off and then burned it to death with a blowtorch.”

“Ew.” Chloe didn’t feel a lot of sympathy towards tarantulas, but still – it sounded a bit, um. Overkill.

“And has your charming brother turned into a serial killer since then?” And trust Lucifer to ask out loud what everyone wondered and no one dared ask.

“Not that I know. Hey, the people-fear-them-but-they’re-just-doing-their-job thing…”

“Yes, Ms Lopez?”

“Well, it’s a bit like your devil routine, right?”

Lucifer only looked down his nose at her before sweeping out of the open-plan kitchen, looking more like an overgrown snotty cat than a manifestation of all things evil in the world. Well, maybe a black cat, she decided. Since it was Halloween and all.

 

However, their investigation quickly took a surprising turn. From mysterious-death-but-no-smoking-gun, the case turned to a we’re-not-ruling-out-homicide-yet-after-all. Lab results showed that what had caused the reaction was somewhat similar to a spider venom, a venom from a spider that was definitely not native to California; and so it was time to turn to the experts. Ella pointed them to a UCLA renowned arachnologist, and since Dan flat-out refused to come with them they were only three in the car.

“Do you really need me on this, Detective? This does seem like a wild goose – well, spider – chase.”

“Are you scared of spiders too, then?”

“Of course not, but this Dr Octavius is probably very busy, and so am I. I’ve got a real job, you know.”

“Oh, so finding murderers is not a real job, is it?”

“Well it is for you, but – ”

“Man, you should stop right here,” Ella said from the back seat.

“Managing the best club in LA is a duty I don’t want to neglect either. People rely on me to provide them with a good time!”

Chloe pursed her lips so she wouldn't laugh at him as his rant went on, and soon enough she was parking and they were looking for Dr Mary-Jane Octavius’ lab.

The room had a definite mad scientist lab feel, and Ella made a beeline for the biggest terrarium. Spiders of all sizes and colors surrounded them, and even though she wasn’t particularly uncomfortable with them it still felt a bit excessive in Chloe’s opinion. Sure, some had admittedly pretty colors, and some had… hair? really? But there was such a thing as too many spiders. They had too many eyes, _way_ too many eyes. And sometimes too much hair. Still, she braced herself and strode to the petite woman squinting at a computer screen at the other end of the lab. Lucifer, as always, was right behind her.

“Dr Octavius?”

The woman stood up and pushed her glasses up her nose. “That’s me. Oh, you’re the LAPD people, right? You called, like, five minutes ago?” She frowned and looked at the clock on the wall.

“More like an hour, but yes.”

“Time _flies_ , doesn’t it?” She didn’t need to look back at him to picture Lucifer’s smug face and pleased grin.

“Spiders aren’t insects like flies, Detective…?”

“This is Lucifer Morningstar, consultant for the LAPD. I’m Detective Decker, and this is Ms Lopez, our forensic scientist on this case.” Ella waved from where she was peering at… well, spiders, presumably.

“She’s the one who will solve the case. We’re just assisting the Detective,” he said from behind her.

“Uh, alright. I heard you wanted to learn about a particular species of spider, right?”

“Right. So, your specialty is venomous spiders, yes?”

“Well, more precisely how being armed changes, or not, their behavior; but you’re basically right.” Her glasses kept sliding down her nose, and she kept absent-mindedly stabbing them back up with a finger. She wore a ring with a small diamond on that hand. Engaged? She didn’t look particularly happy. Mostly, she looked tired, a bit pinched. Chloe made a mental note about it before focusing back on the conversation.

“A body was found that exhibited signs partly consistent with a dangerous spider venom, but it’s not a native species and it seemed to have acted much more quickly than it should.” Chloe opened the file and handed it to her.

“We thought of someone, maybe a neighbor, keeping venomous spiders illegally for funsies, and that a few could have escaped; but no terrariums were found in the houses around it,” Ella said from where she was looking intently at yet more spiders.

“Spiders are good at escaping, but a non-native specimen may not last long enough if it had to cross the city.”

“And what about the symptoms?”

“Yes, the man died with a giant, rock-hard – ”

“ _Lucifer_.”

Dr Octavius raised her eyebrows, her eyes still on the file. “Ah, yes. Symptoms do look like a really bad Phoneutria bite, but… the reaction seems a bit extreme, unless the victim was… uh, no. Healthy adults like him usually survive long enough to get to a hospital, even if they get a full load of venom. That's… I mean, priapism isn’t unheard of as a symptom, but… did he have allergies?”

“Not that we know of,” Ella said. “Hey, are those Australian funnel-web spiders?”

“Yes. Ms Lopez, I’m sorry, but this looks more like your dead man was unlucky and had a very bad reaction to a banana spider bite than anything else, although there are some unusual aspects to the precise compounds you’ve found in the blood…” She handed the file back. “However, there are so many species yet to discover, especially in some areas of the world. It might be an unknown or understudied one. I can’t say more from this, I’m sorry.”

Chloe felt uneasy. It might just be the many spiders, or the strange mixture of a harmless scientist façade mixed with a barely hidden disinterest in helping them find out what had happened. “I understand. If you think of anything, can you call us at the precinct?” She handed out her card and watched Dr Octavius stuff it in a pocket of her stained lab coat.

“That was cool,” Ella said just as Chloe said, “that was weird.”

They both turned to Lucifer, waiting for his opinion; but he ignored them in favor of the food truck that had parked near their car. He made a beeline for it and came back with a bag of samosas for the trip back to the precinct, so he was half-forgiven.

 

Lucifer kept waiting for something to happen, and nothing did – good or bad. So, in the grey meantime, he watched Ella. She was humming along with the music in her earbuds, comparing reports and articles about (presumably) spider-related deaths as she waited for the computer to finish crunching numbers. She would have to notice him. Probably. How was he supposed to start that particular conversation? So, has the Detective said anything strange about me recently? Would you still feel compassion towards the devil if you knew you worked alongside him? Could your faith be strong enough to forgive? How can she still smile at me, let our fingers touch sometimes as if by accident, how can she still have a drink with me after all I’ve done? Would –

“Hey big guy, what are you brooding about?” He almost fell from his stool. “I got some pretty cool spider research here, but none that could hint at supercharged spiders.”

“Maybe they’re radioactive. Got bitten by other spiders. Hit by gamma rays. How should I know?” Honestly, why should he care about that dead guy? He had more pressing concerns. He just had to find a way to –

“Well that’s – hey!” She turned back to the tablet on the table and went back a few pages. “So there’s stuff in here about trying to make spiders less dangerous to humans by genetically modifying – hmmm – yes, and then having GM spiders mate with – yeah, you know, like they’re doing with mosquitoes? Means I have to call the hospitals to check any deaths by mystery venom or, maybe, allergic reaction… Oh, Dr Octavius is part of the team working on it. Hey, listen to that! they’re trying to make spiders that hate sunlight so they’re easier to control when doing trials. That’s so cool! And, oooh...” Her voice faded from his awareness, and he just stared at her. She never took that necklace off, did she? Always had that little golden cross. His half-brother’s very human death taunting him every time he talked to her. “Anyway. There’s the issue of these GM spiders mayyyyybe not being able to get their usual preys, but on the other hand the risk for hikers would be much lower. It’s something to look into, at least. Thanks, Lucifer!” She bounced to him and started to hug him, but fell back quickly on her heels. “What’s wrong? Did you want to talk about something?”

He blinked. “Er, nnnyes?” She smiled encouragingly. “But you’ve got work on your plate, right?” Perhaps the good doctor was right. Maybe he was afraid. The devil, a chicken? He just simply couldn’t bear the idea that…

“Dead man’s dead, you know?” She took him by the arm and nudged him into a desk chair before hitching herself up on the desk itself. “Man, even like this you’re tall.” And yet he let her push and pull him however she wanted, like he did all those huma – people. _People_. The doctor, the offspring, the Detec – just, all of them. Even Detective Espinoza – just to unsettle him. Maze too, of course; but theirs was a long relationship and she never was gentle about anything, unless it was the Detective’s spawn. Child. “Is this about Chloe?”

“What?”

“It is, right? Aw. I don’t know what you two are waiting for, sheesh!” She rolled her eyes. “I mean, even Dan by now has put money in – I mean. Uh.”

“Ms Lopez. Is there, er. Is there a betting pool?”

“Well of course there is! But we’re only betting on the when, not the if.”

“Oh.” Oh, well then. He loved a good gamble himself. But… “But…?”

“Yeah, just don’t tell her, you know? It’s just, you’ve been making eyes at each other for so long, you both want it and you deserve your happy ending, yeah?”

“I…” He felt a bit lost. “She certainly does.” There, no lie.

“But not you? Come on, Lucifer. Even the devil, I promise. Forgiveness, right?”

“My father…” He looked into her large, bright eyes; so full of hope. Her crucifix, her faith. “Of course.”

“Yeah, you don’t fool me. I know you don’t believe me, big guy. Still, I swear – someone’s gonna snap and lock the both you up in a room one day and you won’t come out until you kiss or something.” He must have made a face then, because her eyes widened. “Oooh, did you kiss already?”

He looked down. “We shouldn’t have. Anyway, it’s in the past, and she hasn't… I…” He sighed. “It was my fault, I hurt her.”

“But you saved her too, didn’t you? Yeah, I thought you were getting closer right when there was that poison thing. It’s okay to be scared, I promise. You came back. Whatever happens, you always come back for her.” He shook his head. “And it wasn’t just that you were afraid, was it? She’d forgive you, if you talked to her. Really talked.” _I’ve tried_ , he didn’t say. _But I couldn’t show her after all_.

He got his cigarette case out, fiddled with it, thought about lighting one up, put it all back in his pocket again. “She’s too forgiving.”

“Or you’re not forgiving enough. I think she’s waiting for you to let go of the past and move forward, to take a chance. You keep your distance, and you look at her like she’s your own personal sun. She’s not going to burn you, you know. Just… warm you.”

“I am not a big fan of burns.” He pushed the chair back and stood up in one movement – clearly, he’d get no help from there. Better cut his losses and run back to Lux, to his well-stocked bar and his piano.

“That’s all right, no one is.” She caught his forearm as he moved past her. “So hey, can I ask you something? A bit of help?”

“A favour? A _deal_ , Ms Lopez?”

“Sure, a deal with the devil. Bring it on, you know you don’t scare me.”

He sniffed. “So, what it is you desi – need?”

“Well, I heard the priest in St Agatha’s church gives really great sermons, and I thought I should check him up.”

“Mass? Again?”

“Well, I’m asking because St Agatha is right in the middle of the victim’s father’s territory, and the priest is actually the victim’s uncle. I could get a feel for the people there, you know?”

“And get your fix.” She grinned. “Why me? Why not the Detective, or Daniel?”

“Well, it’s on Sunday morning, and I know they’ve planned a special day with Trixie, so… I talked about it with them and I’m not going in any official capacity, but maybe I could find something interesting, see who’s who, and so on. I just thought two pairs of eyes were better than one, and that it would be more fun with you. Besides, you speak Spanish too; Chloe doesn’t.”

“Mass isn’t fun, Ms Lopez.” But if she insisted on running into mob territory to start turning up stones on her own, she shouldn’t be without backup. “Fine, but you’ll owe me.”

“Hm. I’ll be your wingwoman, how’s that?”

He gave a put-upon sigh and her smile got even larger and slightly more mischievous. He was doomed.

 

Sleepless nights were not an issue for him, but Lucifer still felt that a night of partying at Lux followed by more drinking and piano playing was not an adequate preparation for an early morning mass. Still, there he was, waiting for Ms Lopez with a plain coffee and all his goodwill to face a couple hours with mob-friendly, god-loving people. Both coffee and goodwill were for her, he’d stick to his flask, thank you very much.

Hopefully he’d find something to ask of her in compensation, but to be perfectly honest with himself he didn’t really have any idea of a deal, or even want to have one. He liked her, and wouldn’t Dr Linda be proud of him to actually admit he _liked_ people? She was friendly, she was open-minded, she accepted him at face value, she treated him like… like… one of the team. It was both unsettling and surprisingly welcome.

Ah, here she was. He braced himself for hugs, cheeriness and faith – along with warmth, smiles and the occasional Klingon. Nobody was perfect, and he was intimately aware of that. She got in the Corvette, thanked him for the coffee and drank it as he drove to the church, and as a bonus didn’t even mention his speed or red silk shirt or, well, any sign of _Luciferness_.

“One thing that bugs me,” she said as we was waiting for a traffic light to turn green. “If you were a method actor who never breaks character, you’d probably refuse to even set foot in a church. But you only whine about it, and it doesn't really seem to bother you at all. There’s something more you’re not telling.”

“I’ve been telling you since day one.”

But if you were the direct son of god, wouldn’t you, uh. Never get a red light or something?”

“I chose to live in Los Angeles among you humans. And I've discovered red lights are a perfect opportunity to ogle people.”

“Sure. But you could do miracles, right?” He braked a little harder than necessary. “Well, getting that antidote formula was one, I guess.”

He really, really didn't want to talk about that. “So what am I supposed to look for?”

She didn’t mention his change of topic, but he could see the corner of her mouth lift up a little. She knew he was avoiding the subject. “I don’t know exactly. Just be yourself and keep your eyes peeled, right? We’ll compare notes afterwards.”

“Why didn’t you go to another service in the week?” Lucifer asked as he parked his Corvette a couple blocks from the church. “You could have gone with Daniel, he does speak Spanish and you’ve worked together before.”

“So have we, don’t you remember? That totally-not-a-grave grave-like hole in the ground?”

“Well, he was raised Catholic and I wasn’t.”

“But you believe. I know you do.”

“I don’t _believe_ , Ms Lopez. I _know_. It’s not a matter of faith, for me.” He frowned up at the sky.

“Uh huh.” She only smiled as she opened the door, and he could never tell whether she was laughing at him inside or just in a cheery mood.

“And – far be it from me to suggest this is a quality – but he’s not as… well, he’s not me. He’s invisible, in a crowd.”

“You do stand out, yeah. But that’s good, it means no one will pay any attention to me. We won’t come in at the same time so no one thinks we’re coming together, and I’ll just mingle. No one will really see or remember me even if I’m a new face.”

“Oooh, clever. Should I up my, ah, Luciferness, as the Detective would say?”

“Eh, I don’t know. Start at your baseline, and I’ll signal you if I need more.”

“Signal me? Signal me how, exactly?”

You’ll know it when you see it,” she said with a wink.

And that was that.

They got out and took two different routes to get to the church, and when he walked up the aisle he saw her at the back, already in deep conversation with an old lady. Since she’d asked him to be on his best – well, most Luciferish behaviour, he headed straight for the front pews, smiling at everyone who only glanced his way and saying a few words.

A grin, a glance, a wink, a handshake, a shoulder grab – he did it all, suggesting where to go for a bit of a gamble, who to ask for some more money. He upped his _Castellano_ accent just like he affected an upper-class Southern English one, for an extra old-world touch that always seemed to fascinate and seduce in this part of the world. Why not use all the tools at his disposal? Little by little, as the parishioners started to fill the pews, he inched up the aisle – right until he heard something suspicious. A sniffle, two; a whispered _I_ _can’t let them see_ _, I_ _can’t_. He started to make his way to the curtain, and what was happening behind it. After sending one last chap away with a deal that cost him nothing, he slipped behind the heavy fabric and looked around. Nothing, no one; only a little kitchen with a table, plastic cutlery and a stack of candles. Where were the sounds coming from? He looked down, and – there. A choir boy was sitting on the floor, trying hard not to cry and utterly failing. He looked to be about Beatrice’s age, or at least the same size.

“Sorry sir!” He said as soon as he looked up to see Lucifer looming over him. He seemed terrified.

“Why are you crying?”

“I’m sorry sir, it won’t happen again!”

Another boy hurried to them, a long white robe flapping around his skinny ankles. “What are you babbling about? Leave the man alone!” He turned to Lucifer and opened his mouth, but all his punisher-senses were tingling. He looked down his nose at the intruder.

“Mass is starting soon, isn't it? Don’t neglect your altar boy duties, son. You would make someone quite unhappy, wouldn’t you?” He let his eyes flash red for half a second, and the kid scampered off with a whimper. Good riddance, he thought. “Now you – no, don’t run away.” Right, so no removing of his hand from a skinny shoulder yet. “Why were you crying?”

“I’m not, sir! I’m just – I’m sorry, sir!” His wide brown eyes were darting left and right, trying to find some sort of escape; but Lucifer was the devil and there was no escaping the devil, was there?

“Look, it’s the first time I’m in this church and I’m already bored. Everyone out there wants money, sex, power – the usual. What do _you_ want?” He racked his brain, thought of the one child he knew. “Chocolate? Sleeping in on Sunday mornings? Care to make a deal?” What could a kid be crying about?

“I just…” More sniffles, and Lucifer started to worry about his suit. What if snot got onto the fabric? He’d have to burn it – and first, survive mass wearing it. Ms Lopez probably would not approve his being naked during the service, although it kind of fit her request for Luciferness.

As he was lost in his thoughts, the boy started speaking again. “I just miss my brother,” he finally said.

“What happened to him?”

“He…” There were more tears and snot and Lucifer took a step back. “He didn’t want to marry who he was supposed to and they – he had an accident.” An accident, huh. Like accidentally shooting himself in the back a few times or some such. “MJ said she’d get them all for it, but…”

“MJ?”

“Mary-Jane, my brother’s girlfriend. She’s very smart, you know.” Uh. Interesting, wasn’t it?

“So _you’re_ not after revenge?”

“No!” His vehemence was startling. “Everyone thinks he betrayed them, but he didn’t!”

“But hasn’t the police found your brother’s body? Investigated his death?”

The boy shook his head. “They know people. So we buried him, and they’re all happy he’s dead, and they laugh at me, and I just want it to stop,” the kid whispered. “Please.”

“Well, let’s just start by finding a good reason not to go out there today, shall we?” He looked around, and his eyes fell on a box of matches near some candles.”Oooh, let’s light a few, shall we?”

“But sir…”

“But me no buts, altar boy. You wouldn't deny a son of god the grace of a blessed candle, would you?”

“I don’t know if – ”

“Oh, dearie me; the napkin’s on fire! There, it’s out – but look at the soot stains on your white robe!” The kid was frozen in panic and fear. “There, you can’t go to the service like that, can you? Bet you rushed to put the fire out, that’s a brave thing to do.” He didn’t seem to calm down. “I’ll talk to your priest after the service, all right? Tell him I smelled something burning and found you’d saved them all and decided to stay here to clean stuff. How does that sound?” It didn’t actually sound like much, from the tear-stained face fixed on the still smoking candles. Wax had dripped on the floor and a plastic cup had melted next to it. All right, so Lucifer might have given a little hell-fire nudge to the match, so sue him.

“Are you a demon?”

“What? No!” The nerve. Demons were immune from hellfire, but they didn’t have any control over it either. “So, do we have a deal?” Being a community hero should help with his predicament, right?

But the child only eyed him warily. “What would I have to do for you?”

Lucifer shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’ll tell you when I do, all right?”

“But…”

Oh, so he was a smart kid, then. Smarter than many adults who didn't think of the consequences of making deals. “Oh, fine. Just… look, stop crying, stop… leaking, I really don’t want you leaking any more on me. I turned the tables for you and you spare the Armani. Deal?” He really wasn’t here for this. As if going to mass wasn’t enough! Weepy children on top of self-righteous sinners was really going too far.

He passed on shaking hands with the grubby little thing (ew), sent Ms Lopez and the Detective a quick text to tell them about what he’d learned, and stalked out of the room.

 

Back in the church itself, Lucifer’s eyes roamed over the… were they all believers? He doubted it. Habit, social pressure, a need to belong… how many were here because of faith? He spotted a few angry or curious gazes sent his way, and a couple burly guys materialized out of the crowd to bracket him as a small woman approached.

“You’re new here,” she said.

“I am.”

“What do you want?”

“I’m just here for the service, ma’am.” He tried a seductive smile, but she didn’t seem to care much. Ah, a tough one.

“And some serious glad-handing.”

“Well, let it not be said I can’t be friendly to my neighbour.”

“But this neighbourhood is already under protection.” The two extremely robust fellows frowned at him and flexed their shoulders, for good measure. “Go get another territory, newcomer. This place is sacred, but if we see you again around here…”

“Yadda yadda threat threat blah, yes, I get it. You people can be so unimaginative. I quit the ruling shtick years ago, you know? I’m not going to go back to it, thank you very much. Not my fault if so many of your minions are unhappy with your rule, is it? Now if you’ll excuse me, the service is about to begin.” Honestly, these people were such clichés.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ms Lopez wink at him from a few pews back; so at least _someone_ was happy with him. He looked up at the ceiling and wondered how some of the people around here, Ms Lopez among them, could still believe in his father’s benevolence and trust his plans. He knew better.

 

At first, he thought he was falling asleep listening the priest drone on about flesh, blood and salvation; wine, bread and forgiveness. Hah. He though he was half-dreaming, imagining things. Seeing shadows.

But he wasn’t.

Ignoring the disapproving glares of the people around him, he got his phone out and sent a quick message to Ms Lopez. _Look at the walls_ , he typed. He watched a few shapes crawling up a pillar, getting near the priest’s robe, surrounding the altar, going up up up – there was a high-pitch ed scream. All the congregation turned as one, and he saw Ms Lopez pointing at a drape and yelling, _“ ¡Arañas! ¡Arañas! ”_ There had been mention of a rare case of death via exotic spider bite in the news. The reaction was immediate.

The crowd started moving as one, stomping on the spiders as they rushed to the doors; and the padre up there was doing his best to calm everyone while trying to escape the growing numbers of spiders. They were now pouring down from the beams, creeping from under the sacristy door, crawling on the stonework, even invading the altar. They made the floor and fabrics and walls look alive and as if they were liquid and flowing down on the crowd.

“It is the devil’s work, but we shall not let him win! He is making us see death where it isn’t! Our hearts are full of faith and we trust our lord’s…” His voice petered out when his eyes fell on Lucifer, standing there loose and as nonchalant as he could with a cigarette in hand. No way was he wasting an occasion to terrify a priest. Meanwhile, most churchgoers were busy forgetting all holy love for their neighbours as they pushed and pulled and punched to beat the others to the spider-free, sun-soaked outside.

“You!” the priest said.

“Yes, me. But the spiders aren’t from hell, nor an illusion.” He waved his cigarette case. “Care for a smoke?”

“You are the Prince of Lies, and they are not attacking you.”

“They’re not attacking you either, padre. And I _do not lie_.” His lip curled, when would humans stop blaming him for things he was not responsible for?

The priest looked down and indeed, just like around Lucifer, there was a large spider-free circle around him. “God protects me.”

“Yes, well, can’t say the same. But I do suspect they don’t like fire or sunlight, so there’s that.” He let some ash fall from his cigarette, his gaze never leaving the priest. “Ms Lopez, what say you?”

“That’s them, the GM spiders. They have the markings the article mentioned. I bagged a few and called it in, the pest control services should be here quickly.”

“Good. You should get out into the sun, Ms Lopez. It’s dangerous in here for you.”

“As it is for you and father Luis.”

“No, not for us.” He finally turned to see her standing much closer than he’d thought – and also surrounded by an arachnid-free circle. He tilted his head in surprise.

“I may have stolen a little canister from Dr Octavius’ lab the other day.” Lucifer’s eyebrows rose up. “I analysed a sample and determined it was meant as a spider repellent, but there was very little left and no time to reproduce it so I just put some on your suit, on father Luis’s robe and on me.”

“See? No need for any divine intervention or lessons about the evils of stealing, padre. Just good old human resourcefulness to save the day.”

“Well, god helps those who help themselves,” she said.

“Including those that help themselves to some unlabelled, mysterious containers that don’t belong to them, apparently. I’m proud of you, Ms Lopez.” She grinned and extended her fist to him for a little bump. He reached out with his own fist, thinking he could for once allow it if it freaked the priest out (it did).

“ _Hija_ , do you know who you are associating with?”

“Yes, Ms Lopez, do you?” Lucifer rolled his eyes. “Let’s go outside into the light, shall we?” But the priest didn’t budge. “Oh, come on, padre Corraco; don’t be ridiculous! I’m not going to kill anyone!”

“Aw, Lucifer, you wouldn't!”

“Your faith in me is as baffling as ever, Ms Lopez.” And rather misguided, given what tended to happen when he spent time in churches. He felt cold then, cold from the inside; and the rippling mass of spiders around them were suddenly crowding him, choking him almost. He turned on his heel and strode to the open doors at the other end of the aisle, not even checking to see if they were following. He just needed out. He just needed air.

 

“He’s the _devil_!” Father Luis was hurrying after her, his shoes clicking on the stone tiles.

“Eh, he can be pretty intense sometimes, but really he’s rather sweet. Big softie, gives great hugs. Cool car.”

“I fear you’re not quite aware of the danger you’re in, consorting with Satan.”

They rushed down the steps at the front of the church and found many police cars and pest control vans had already arrived on the scene. Dan and Chloe were already speaking with witnesses while Lucifer was leaning against a car, another cigarette consuming itself between his long fingers.

“Ella! Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Hey, I thought you were supposed to spend the day with Trixie?”

“We left her with Amenadiel.” Lucifer huffed from behind Dan. “What? He’s not worse than you or Maze.”

“Who is not worse than me?”

“What – I thought you were on a job?”

“Hey, Decker. I was, and then when I left the guy at the precinct they told me what had happened, so here I am.” She turned to Lucifer. “Why the long face?”

Before he could say anything, a squeak coming from her left reminded Ella of who was with her. “Well, he never likes it when I drag him to a church. So hey, this is Father Luis Corraco, he was officiating when the spiders came out of the walls.” She raised the plastic bag in her gloved hand. And I got a few critters out so I can study them before pest control crushes them all.”

The priest only squeaked a little more.

“Padre, relax. You’re perfectly safe. Detective Decker is very good at job.” Dan glared at Lucifer, who added with a cheeky grin,”and so are Ms Lopez and bounty hunter Mazikeen.” Maze curled her lip at the priest, and Ella caught his arm as he stumbled away from Maze.

“Hey, let’s just have a seat, all right?” She opened the car door and helped him inside.

Lucifer popped his head in and Father Luis jumped. “Bloody hell, won’t you stop? It’s getting irritating. I swear, I’ve known better priests than you.” He took a deep breath, and Ella remembered Chloe telling their little girl tribe about Father Frank one night. “He was the exception rather than the rule, it seems. The child is with my brother who is an actual _angel of the lord_ ,” he said making little quote marks with his fingers. “Detective Decker has the best closing rate of the precinct, and Detective Espinoza is… very good at paperwork. And breaking into safes.”

“Thanks, man.”

“Anytime, Daniel.”

“Dick.”

“Douche.”

“Boys.” They both looked down and away.

“You got them whipped, Chloe.” Maze showed her teeth in what could have been described as a smile, idly twirling a curved knife and making Father Luis even more nervous.

“Well,” Chloe said. She cleared her throat. “To get back to our case. Is everyone out?”

“I think s – ” Lucifer dropped what was left of his cigarette and ran past the vans into the church.

“What…?” They all looked at each other, wondering what had prompted him to rush back inside as if his suit was on fire; but they soon got their answer. A minute or two later he was out again, carrying a boy who looked to be about Trixie’s age. His white robe looked stained.

“Esteban!” Father Luis seemed to forget all his fears as he hurried to them. “Let go of him!”

“I’m sorry Father,” the boy said. “I fell asleep and I…” Lucifer set the boy on his feet and took a step back.

“Nevermind, you’re safe now. You _are_ , right?”

“The spiders never got near him, padre. Too many candles around him.”

“I’m not asking _you_. All right, where are you parents now?”

“They didn’t come to mass, Father, they’re working today.”

“Pft. Avoiding everyone else, you mean. Cowards.”

“Lucifer.” At Chloe’s pointed look, he subsided again. Ella smiled. Maze was right: whipped.

“They’re good people. Well, Esteban; we’ll just call and reassure them. Ah, thank you,” he said taking the phone handed out to him – and then promptly fumbling it when he saw whose phone it was. Thankfully, Lucifer caught it before it smashed on the gravel.

“Please don’t break it, it’s brand new and I’d rather not waste another few hours setting up a new one, thank you very much. I swear, if I were still ruling hell I'd certainly get many new ideas to torture sinners from you people.” He shook the phone. “It won’t bite. Call them.” Father Luis finally wrapped his fingers around it and typed in the number the kid rattled.

As the boy talked to his parents, Ella looked at Lucifer. “Is that the kid you texted me about? How did you know he was still in there?”

“That’s him. I found him crying before mass, and then I remembered I never saw him once the office started; so, um.”

“That’s nice of you,” Dan said.

“We made a deal. I’m just protecting my interests here.”

“Sure.” Chloe’s mouth was curling up at the corners, and Ella thought that they’d get there someday. They’d get together, and they’d be soft and cute.

“What kind of deal can you make with a 10 year old kid anyway?”

“Oh, Daniel. I’ll collect at a later date, when convenient. I’m sure something will come up.”

“You’re just – aaaaaaah!” Daniel’s scream made everyone’s head turn and then gasp when Maze’s knife planted itself in a large spider crawling from under one of the vans parked right at the bottom of the church steps.

“Maybe we should take everything a bit further back, yeah?” Always practical, Chloe.

“I thought, I thought they didn’t like the sun!” Dan was still wheezing.

“Yeah, well. There’s always a bold one, you know? The first fish to go on land, the first Vulcan to marry a human, you know. The usual.” Why was everyone staring at her?

“Well, anyway. Dan, can you get Father Luis’ statement and see to it that we have all we need on witnesses? It’ll get you away from the spiders, too,” she added with a smile.

“I know what you’re doing,” he grumbled, but his eyes were grateful as he started to herd boy and priest to a group of officers.

“Right. No, let’s make the area secure and see what we can get from the scene, all right? Ella, we’ll need a confirmation those are the same you saw in Dr Octavius’ lab.”

“Well, they look the same and their behavior is consistent with what she described in the article, but… yeah, I’ll get right on it.”

“Well, it’s Sunday; it can wait until tomorrow.”

“Nah, you know what? I’m curious, now. That’s all right, I like my job. You should wrap it up quickly and go back to your kid, though.”

“Well, I, uh. Um.”

“Detective, your colleagues can do without you for today. I am sorry that Ms Lopez and I had to drag you away from your day off with your offspring.”

“And Dan.”

“Ah, yes, and Daniel; although I’m certain you are a much better and more nurturing influence on her than he is."

Chloe blinked at him for a few seconds, and he quickly went from bobbing on the balls of his feet to surprise at her reaction, then mortification as he realized how much he’d said behind his words. Ella bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to yell “just kiss already (or, well, again) and put us all out of _your_ misery!” and instead just widening her eyes at Lucifer and giving him a thumbs-up. He was doing it right, when he wasn’t trying to… do whatever it was that ended up in him being married or high or too manic to be healthy and sane.

 

Dan didn’t quite know what had happened; one minute he was delivering the kid Lucifer had carried out of the church into his his parents’ care, and the next he was waking up in a dark, windowless room with a painful goose egg on the back of his skull. Windowless… unless it was nighttime? But it had been the middle of the afternoon when someone whacked him… he couldn’t have been unconscious for so long, could he?

He let his hands explore the floor around him until they bumped into what felt like a table leg, square and metal-cold. It seemed sturdy enough and so he used it to pull himself (more or less) upright; and then he went on exploring the table and the wall next to it until he felt something like a light switch. He flipped it, and immediately wished he hadn’t. What _was_ this place? He belatedly remembered he had a phone, but when he patted himself down he realized it had been taken away, along with his gun and pocket knife. Of course it had. Stupid, stupid, stupid. So, no way to know where he really was…

Think like a cop, he told himself. Assess the situation. Bare, metallic walls: check. A lab bench, a couple stools, and not much else. There were plugs down the walls and little holes along the ceiling covered with steel grids; they were probably part of some sort of aeration system. The shelves on the walls were all empty, and when he tried the sink no water ran out. The only way out and, presumably, in was what a door deep-set into the wall, but of course it had no handle. There was a keypad next to it, but the wires had been torn off and were hanging under it. He still tried to push it, hit it, smash a stool against it, and even tried to slip his belt buckle in the seam but it was shut and he was well and truly fucked.

He really, really didn’t want to panic; Chloe would see he wasn’t coming back to the precinct, right? The room was big enough he had enough oxygen for some time yet, right? He wasn’t claustrophobic, he wasn’t about to hyperventilate and – fine, he was. He _was_ , something was moving down the walls from the vents, a grid fell down with a clank, the walls were alive, oh no oh no oh no spiders everywhere they were coming for him they were they looked like those venomous ones and they were hairy and bright orange and deadly and he didn’t want to die he had a little girl he couldn’t die he –

There was horrible metal screech and a deafening clang as the door landed on the white tiles and cracked a few, and there stood… Lucifer?

“Hello, Daniel. From lions to spiders, eh? I can’t tell if it’s an upgrade or a downgrade.”

“Man, I’ve never been so happy to…”

“Oooh, what is that crawling on your shoulder?” What – “Breathe, there’s nothing… yet.” Dan yelped as Lucifer caught his arm and half-pulled, half-threw him into the corridor. “However, much as it pains me to cut your thanks short, let’s get you out of here first before they bite you.”

“Bite _us_ , you mean!” Damn, that dick had long legs – but _Dan_ was the daddy. Hah hah. Ah, he was losing it, he was losing it…

“Oh, I’m… immune. Come on now, can’t you leg it out of here a little faster?”

Somehow, Lucifer knew which turns to take, which doors to open – and none seem to stop him. None was torn off its hinges as dramatically as the first one either, but then Lucifer did like to make an entrance. He put his hands on the knobs, keypads, handles and they all opened with a little click, until finally they were outside.

“But… where are the others?”

“Still gathering the tools and hazmat suits and whatnot, I assume. I thought it’d be faster if I got you out myself. Now, aren’t you grateful?” He made to turn back into what Dan could now see was an unassuming low building on a hill overlooking the city.

“I sure am, yeah. But maybe we should get away from here rather than back inside, you know?”

“ _You_ certainly should, Daniel. I, on the other hand, am going back inside and setting everything on fire.”

“Are you insane?” Lucifer flashed his teeth in a quick smile, bumped his shoulder and strode back inside, the door slamming shut behind him. “Fine, you are. Now what am I…” Oh. There was a new weight in his jacket pocket, and – what was it with these people that they kept using him as a, as a walking purse or something? First Amenadiel’s necklace, now Lucifer’s phone… He saw it was unlocked, and scrolled through the contacts looking for Chloe. He found her under – of course – “The Detective.” He would have smiled if he hadn’t wanted to scream, so he compromised and called her.

“Lucifer?”

“Chloe, it’s Dan.”

“Dan! Oh my god, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Lucifer got me out, left me his phone and went back inside and _he is certifiable_. I don’t quite know where I am, but…”

“We do, we’re coming up the road now.” Dan pulled the phone away from his ear and there it was, the faint sound of car engines driving up the hill. “Lucifer’s brother called us when he found your car, he’s coming along.”

“Where’s Trixie?”

“She’s home with Maze and Linda. She’s safe.” Dan breathed out in relief, Chloe’s roommate was scary but also badass and wouldn't let anyone hurt their little monkey. She’d stab every spider coming her way.

“That’s good. Oh, I see you now, I’m hanging up.”

Just as we was putting the phone back in his pocket, the first van parked and out ran Chloe, Ella and Amenadiel on her heels.

“Daniel. I am glad to see you well.”

“Me too, man. Me too,” Dan answered after Chloe had given him a quick, relieved hug.

“Where is…”

Just as Ella started speaking, the roof of the building burst open and giant flames sprang out. They all took a step back, then a second as heat and ash reached them. Somehow, the fire seemed to be contained in the building, and not a single spark seemed to jump out to the dry grass around it. The plaster around the walls crumbled and revealed metal that was glowing red and already starting to melt, folding in on itself like wet cardboard. It looked much more intense than a regular fire.

“We have to call the fire department.”

“Where’s my brother?” Amenadiel asked.

A bloodcurling, unearthly sound answered him. It started as a low growl, almost indistinguishable from the roar of the fire, then rose in pitch until it was cut short. Dan’s guts twisted. He wanted to throw up, and he heard someone retch behind him.

“Don’t tell me someone was in there?” He hadn’t realized there were so many people already there, most half-dressed in biochem suits and for some holding canisters of some sort of insecticide, or so he assumed. “Don’t tell me my brother’s in there!”

Before Dan could think of formulating an answer, Amenadiel was running to the blazing inferno, as if he thought he was immune to the flames and the heat. Before he could reach it, however, the mass of metal and rubble heaved and – oh god – a human-shaped, burning thing seemed to rise out of it before falling again.

“Luci!” And inside the fire Amenadiel ran. Even for that family it was a new level of insane.

Dan only had enough sense left to catch Chloe’s arm as she made to follow. “Don’t,” he whispered. “Not you, too.” He wasn’t sure she could hear him over the noise, but she finally looked back at him and nodded. She was devastated, he could see it in her fixed eyes, her trembling chin. “Please, Chloe.” She loved Morningstar, he knew; and she shouldn’t have to watch him die like that, or really at all. But Dan loved her too, and they had a daughter together, and she was his friend and his rock and such a big part of his life – she would forever be. He _wasn’t_ losing her, and he knew Lucifer would have agreed.

He saw her lips move. “Dan,” he thought she said. He let his hand go down to her hand and her fingers gripped his, and he felt ashamed of the tiny bit of joy it gave him to feel her need for that, whatever it was. Reassurance? Solidity? Realness? Habit? He didn’t know, and didn’t care; whatever it was he’d give it to her a thousand times over.

The heat had made the wind rise and they both watched dust swirl around them, around the destroyed building. The vans behind them, the pest control people, the police cars – they were all nothing but vague shadows. Bizarrely, nothing obstructed their view of the fire, but no one wanted to look at it. Ella had closed her eyes and was praying, a hand on her crucifix; Chloe was staring back at him and Dan was – “Chloe. Chloe, look.”

She shook her head, but he squeezed her hand and she finally turned her head and he could feel all her tension leave her before coming back tenfold.

There, from out of the flames, on a hellish background of death and destruction, two figures were coming closer. There was no mistaking who it was. The thinner one had an arm slung over the other’s shoulders and was trying to push his brother away like the little ungrateful shit he was, and he was… god, he was all black, blacker than sin, as if he’d been burned so badly he’d turned into charcoal and how was he still upright? How?

As they got closer, Dan understood. Sort of. And also kind of wished he didn’t. Behind Lucifer, two charred wings trailed in the destruction and chaos and ashes. Behind his brother, two great gray wings, hale and strong-looking. He wasn’t sure if they were gray because of the ash or because it was their natural color, but Amenadiel was entirely untouched by the fire. Even his clothes were intact.

When they were only a few feet away, he could hear their bickering.

“Stop fighting me.”

“G’way f’m me.”

“Can’t you ever accept help?”

“You’ll burn.”

“No I won’t.”

“Fallen. M’fault.”

“Entirely mine, and we’re out now so I was right. You can stop now. You can – Lucifer, just stop!”

But he didn’t, bull-headed idiot that he was. He stumbled a few more paces on his own, not quite aware his brother had stopped walking; and then he collapsed. He looked so bad Dan had a hard time believing he didn't crumble down and disintegrate in a pile of ash. He’d hardly blinked that Chloe was already at his side, her hands hovering over him as if hesitating to touch him. He was… how was he even alive?

Amenadiel had knelt by his side and was trying to get him to stay put instead of crawling away, but when he saw Chloe he jumped to his feet again with a great heave of his wings. Wings. Dan tried to ignore that. She rose up too.

“Chloe. Your presence is what…” He stopped, took a deep breath, started again. “I am going to take my brother back to Lux to heal him. Please stay away for a few days. I’ll call you. Maze will explain.” A strange, broken rattle made them all look down. “What?” Lucifer’s lips moved a little, and it made cracks open and bleed bright red on his charcoal-black… skin, if you could call it that. The sounds he made were no words Dan could understand, but his brother seemed to. “Don’t be more of an idiot than usual, Luci.”

“What is it?” Chloe glared up into Amenadiel’s face, and she was back into her I-want-answers- _now_ mode. God, or whoever, oh my – oh hel – Dan would have to change his vocabulary, just – _fuck_ – whoever, help those that didn’t deliver them. “I’m not staying away!”

“He…”

“No,” Lucifer said.

“Stop trying to talk, brother. He won’t heal properly if you are near him.” He pushed her gently away. “I don’t know why or how, but while his wings protected him for a while in there they were not enough. Come on now, let’s get you to the penthouse. A couple feathers and you’ll be right a rain.”

“No feathers!” It sounded like he’d torn what was left of his throat off with that. “Not first time ‘round.” He spit blood on the dry earth, and Chloe sank back to the ground.

“Lucifer. Lucifer, can you hear me?”

Dan wasn’t quite sure whether to smile and cry when the charred head immediately turned to her, when his eyes finally fluttered open. They were entirely red, like blood spurting out of a soon-to-be corpse or like lava about to engulf everything and kill all life or like… like death. They stayed on her face, his blinks slower and slower, as she smiled down at him and gently put her fingers on the inside of his arm.

“You have to get better. Can you do it? Can you do it for me?” He was fighting to stay awake, to keep watching her just a little longer. He somehow still had eyelids. Dan focused on that, rather than everything else. Focused on Chloe’s words. “Let your brother help you. Then we’ll talk, all right?”

He mouthed something, but what exactly Dan couldn’t tell. His eyes closed for good after that and Amenadiel carefully picked him up before spreading his wings and, presumably, taking off – he sort of disappeared between one moment and the next, and as he did the winds finally abated, the dust settled and at last firemen ran past them.

Chloe took a deep breath and stood up after a last look into the clouds. “Right. So. Let’s just… let’s just do our jobs, yeah?” Her voice shook less and less with each word.

“I think,” Ella said, “I think after that I’ll need a drink and maybe an hour or ten in a church.”

 

His brother was, again, being difficult. As soon as he’d been able to he’d fought him, fought Amenadiel’s attempts at helping him heal; he’d pushed his hands away and pushed his feathers away and even refused the drinks held out to him. Fine, so the first one had been a nice, soothing herbal tea Linda had recommended after she’d got burnt herself, but after narrowly escaping the mug thrown at his head Amenadiel had gone to the bar and poured something very alcoholic and very expensive in the first tumbler he’d found; but to no avail. Lucifer had just turned around, hobbled to the balcony, lit a cigarette (without a lighter, the fires of hell were still in him – and the thought made Amenadiel shudder) and looked away every time he tried to talk.

Was it seeing his newly restored wings and time-bending abilities? Father’s grace, bestowed on him again? Or was it just the pain? He wondered why Lucifer was healing so slowly, why this time his wings had been turned to charred bone and ashes. They’d finally disintegrated into a little pile of gray dust. In a few minutes, the wind had blown it all away into the sky. Was it Chloe’s presence? Something else? Whatever the reason, it was just too painful to watch. And hadn’t he been sent here to help his brother? He could always force him to accept the healing powers in his feathers, but he didn’t dare go against his brother’s will quite yet. Even without them he should heal on his own, even if it took much more time… forcing him to do anything usually ended up disastrously. Still, he had to try.

“Come on, Luci; don’t you want to… to heal more quickly? Aren’t you suffering?”

When he talked, when he moved – the blackened skin cracked and tore, revealed red muscle and glistening flesh. Blood escaped, often. “Not my first rodeo, brother.” The eyes remained the same, full of fire and anger and hurt. “No one _helped_ back then. What, having a guilty conscience now?”

Amenadiel sighed. When in pain, when in doubt, even back when he’d still been Samael but on his way to becoming Lucifer already, he’d done the same. He got wilder, more dangerous, ready to bite so he’d be left alone; but Amenadiel knew he needed to be not alone. “I do not like to see you suffer, especially since it could be avoided very easily if you’d only – ”

“I’ll heal on my own. Keep your precious feathers. You wanted them back and now back they are; just… fly away, will you? Leave me be.” How could he swallow so much alcohol, smoke so many cigarettes when his entire body was but one giant wound? Was it still less painful than his own thoughts? A distraction from the hurt, a pain he’d at least chosen? “Our dear father has forgiven you, enjoy it while it lasts. Revel in his manipulations. Go back to the Silver City, just… go.” He was shrouded in a cloud of tobacco now, and he seemed blurred and almost not really there anymore. Just a whisper of a presence, a ghost surrounded by a gray fog.

“You need me, Luci,” he told the ghost.

“I don’t. Go on, your self-appointed mission is through. You helped me out, you helped the devil himself, you proved your worth; you were brave in the face of adversity, lo and behold, and so on and so forth. Just go back to heaven and do whatever it is you like doing there. Just leave me here.”

And that was how their every conversation went; Amenadiel was considering letting his hair grow out just so he could tear it off in frustration. After a few days, Lucifer was finally better; not as weak as before and scarred rather than charred. But then, he stopped healing entirely, and Amenadiel didn’t quite understand why. His brother didn’t seem surprised, and only paced the penthouse like a caged lion, glaring at Amenadiel whenever he came to check how he was.

“At least my costume is ready for tomorrow night. Very realistic. It’ll get me out of here for a few hours, at least.”

“You’ll scare everyone, Luci.”

“I know. That’s the point though, isn’t it? Boo, I’m the monster from your nightmare, out roaming the street one night only in the year, happy Halloween?”

“You don’t have to…” Amenadiel waved his hand in front of his brother. “Why do you stay like that?” He knew he hated it; all the penthouse mirrors had been smashed.

“Like what? Like _m_ _yself_? Don’t like my face, brother? Then go away, go where you don’t have to see it. You’re the one who keeps coming here.”

“But… is it because, er. Because Chloe’s in the same city? Can she affect you from that far away?” Lucifer only shrugged and knocked down yet another shot glass of the ten he’d aligned on his piano top. His hand left a reddish imprint on the glass. “You didn’t… before…”

“Of course I did. I burned for a very long time, and then I had to learn how to look like what I used to be. All on my own. I didn’t need you then, I don’t need you now.” He rested his naked forearm, still blistered and red and angry where it wasn’t coal black, along the shot glasses; and his eyes narrowed. “ _This_ is who I am though, why should I lie? Why should I bother? At least this time the bloody wings aren’t coming back. One of these days, you’ll just finally do what you’ve been here to do all this time, you’ll just fly me back to hell. Father knows best, eh?”

“I’m not – ”

“No more lies! Well, no more hiding. I give in, I surrender, I’m not pretending anymore; I am the devil, the monster, the…” His lip curled, splitting a little in the middle.

“What’s gotten into you?”

“What’s – it’s pointless, is what it is! All of it. Everything!” He curled his hand into a fist, and Amenadiel felt like throwing up when his eyes fell on the tendons, the raw tendons, moving and so so white against the black and red flesh. “Whatever I do, I… I… I’m a fly in his spiderweb, we all are! Sticking wings back on me, having me get rid of mum for him because – hah – god forbid he did the job himself, eh? Taking your wings away, giving them back when it pleases him; sending you down to bless the Detective’s parents and throwing her in the path of bullets and poison and how can there be a point? How? Can you tell me? Look around you! He created them, created humans, and he said they would be free – but what sort of freedom is that? It’s only pain! They can choose, yes; but they’re always paying the price. How is that fair? How is that good? What kind of plan is that?”

“Luci – ”

“Don’t you Luci me!” He was screaming by now, the corners of his mouth oozing blood and his eyes brighter than usual, a fire usually banked but now blazing. “He’s just having fun with us all! Do you feel happy now? Here’s a deadly disease! Do you have friends? They’ll betray you! Good job? Your business partner will murder your wife! Let’s just create orphans, push them all to war, have them still have faith in the divine because they’ll just blame it all on good old Lucifer! Let’s make my own son look like the worst abomination too while we’re at it, so there’s no doubt in anyone’s mind he’s deserving of their hate and fear. Look at me, brother! Look at what he made me. They’re all scared of me, and with good reason, yes? Because he’s made me all twisted, he’s turned me into a monster after all. The inside matches the outside now.”

“You’re not – ”

“I am. I am! I killed! Remember? I killed our brother, and he’s never coming back! I banished mum so she’ll never be back, either. Never! How many people got hurt because of me? Just look at Doctor Martin, she’d still be perfectly healthy if she hadn’t ever met me. I hurt… I hurt everyone, whatever I do.” His voice broke. “I should just look like what I am. Stop lying and wear the truth, since it’s what dad wants. Just stop… stop pretending. I can’t _pretend_ any longer. No more lies. Not even to me.”

He sat at his piano, his hands on the cover. They were shaking too much to open the lid and play, and so they remained there, the fingers curled a little. The only sound was Lucifer’s heavy, raspy breathing.

Amenadiel didn’t quite know what to say that would help. He’d already said all he could think of, and it just didn’t get through his brother’s thick skull. He didn’t even dare touch him. Would he get a fist in his face if he tried? Would it be painful on the still raw-looking skin? His brother only wore loose pajama bottoms because Amenadiel had insisted; he really didn’t want to see some of his brother’s bits, thank you very much. But he’d point-blank refused to wear anything else.

As he was dithering about what to do, the elevator doors dinged and opened, and out came – Daniel and the child. What were they doing here?

“Hello, Lucifer!” Before all those taller than four feet could react, the girl had launched herself at his brother; but this time she stopped right in front of him, her arms hovering in the air between them. He was frozen, staring at her with something in his eyes – fear. Terror. An invisible fist closed over Amenadiel’s guts. “Mommy said you’d been hurt but you saved my daddy so I wanted to say thank you but I don’t want to hurt you can I touch you are you in pain?” She looked up into his face, apparently unbothered by his appearance. Her father was still gaping near the bar, and Amenadiel thunked a shot glass next to him. “Lucifer?”

He finally took a slow breath, let it out even more slowly. “I – yes.”

“Are you in pain?”

Lucifer’s eyes left her to look at his brother. He looked lost. “I… I’m better now.”

“All right. Maze said her face doesn’t hurt at all but that for you it was different.” She came closer to him, took his hand very softly in hers and patted it oh so gently. “Thank you, Lucifer. You saved my daddy.” She sounded so serious, so solemn. A child should never have to fear so much for her parents. Should never fear – well, that was Lucifer’s point, he guessed. He really didn’t want to agree with him about their father.

“Your dad…” He coughed a little. “He’s all right. He’s a good dad to you. You should keep him.”

“Wow, well – ”

“Daniel, it really wasn’t for you.”

“Still. Thank you.”

“Will you just – you’ve said what you came to say, just – ”

“Mommy said she’d like to come see you but Maze said she shouldn’t yet but can I tell her you said you were better?”

“She’s worried about you, you know. I promised a full report.”

“I’m fine.”

“You look like – I mean, you don’t look fine.”

“I _am_ hell, Daniel. I am allowed to look like it.”

“You don’t have to,” Amenadiel said.

“Are you going to heal soon? Mommy said she’d visit when you were healed.”

“She doesn’t have to. You don’t have to,” he answered their still joined hands.

“We want to. Daddy too, he said you were very brave and stupid and mommy said you usually were and Maze just rolled her eyes and showed me where to stab someone much bigger than me.” She did a little demonstration for them, and Amenadiel smiled.

“Maze what?” Daniel’s voice rose up a few octaves.

“On a dummy. Duh. Maze got one for me because I am not allowed to practice on people.”

“Oh. Oh goody,” he said. “Well. At least that’s useful. Probably. I think?”

“She said if I’m good I can maybe use her blades too!”

“Well I – you know what, fine. The best babysitter we’ve got is a demon, I got an angel to try improv, and you saved me from the death spiders. That’s fine. Totally fine. I’m good. We are. We all are. Right.” He sat heavily on a bar stool and finally grabbed the shot glass and swallowed the gin quickly.

“You don’t really sound fine, Daniel,” Lucifer told his knees.

“Well, you know what? I am, and that’s what actually freaks me out.”

Luci shrugged. “Same difference.”

“You’re an idiot, you know that? A real, honest-to-go – damn. Look, can Chloe come or not? She’d like to see you.”

“See me? _See me?_ ”

“Don’t you want to see her, brother?”

He didn’t answer.

“Look, man, she wants to, and you want to. What’s your problem?”

“Have you looked at me recently, Daniel?”

“Much too often since last year, to be honest. Come on, Trixie. We’ve done what we came for, and he needs to rest.”

”No I don’t.”

“So can we stay?” The child said. “Can you play me a song? Maze said you play songs for mommy sometimes.”

Daniel snickered, Lucifer looked horrified, and Amenadiel sat down to watch his brother try and fail to get out of the situation he’d put himself into. It ended in a 90s medley that made the little girl jump up and sing along because, of course, she knew all the lyrics from her mother’s usual playlists.

“Chloe told me he stole her phone once to see what she liked. And then learned it all and sang her favorite song to her in public.”

“Why am not not surprised?”

“Yeah, well. I used to think you were both really weird, but it turns out you’re mostly clueless.” Amenadiel chuckled at that. He could picture it quite well.

As they left, Daniel shook his brother’s hand without any fear, and the child knelt on the piano bench to kiss his cheek. “I’m not hurting you, am I?” she asked. He shook his head, a little poleaxed. “I’ll tell mommy she should come.”

“All right,” he finally answered.

He still had a tiny smile on his face when Amenadiel left him with his bourbon and cigarettes.

 

Alone at last. The ashtray was overflowing, and Lucifer felt empty. His skin was itching as in from the inside and everything was heavy, too heavy. The penthouse was silent and mostly dark, finally. The only light that didn’t hurt his eyes came from the city far below. He’d put all his energy into pushing Amenadiel away, into not running away screaming when Daniel and the offspring visited. He’d put everything he had into breathing through it, never knowing when the other shoe would fall. Would the child suddenly _see_ him? Shouldn’t Daniel realize the danger he faced? It was all there to see on what was left of his face. He wasn’t hiding anything, was he? Not anymore. And now he felt… nothing much.

But they hadn’t left, and she hadn’t been afraid, and he hadn’t taken her away. Amenadiel had even stopped looking at him with pity for a while. He’d almost forgotten – well, _everything_ for a while there. He glanced at his brand new phone, and saw the Detective had sent him another message. She kept sending them. An email about the case, an update on the autopsy of Esteban’s brother’s body they’d exhumed. Most often, she was asking how he was. He didn’t know what to answer, and so he never did; but she seemed to know anyway. Amenadiel must be tattling.

Maze had only come once. She’d looked at him, told him he’d get better or else because her roommate and the kid were moping and she didn’t want to move out, then she’d left. But what was he supposed to do? Stay here like a devil of Shalott, stuck in his tower and looking at the human world through his phone? Cursed, is what he was. Cursed by his father, who revelled in taking away every little piece of joy he could get. Tangled in his father’s web of deceit and manipulation. Hadn’t he been punished enough?

He’d talked a little to Dr Linda on the phone, but he’d found it wasn’t the same as in her office. He wished he could ask her to come, but he really didn’t want her to see him like this, and she’d respected his wishes. Not that his appearance would be new to her, but even if the light was dim, he just… he didn’t want to remind her of her own trials, of what his mother had put her through. He’d hurt her enough, no – he’d hurt her _too much_ already. At least Maze had saved her career when he’d jeopardized it; but Linda would wear mum’s scars for the rest of her life.

And he was… he was just tired. Tired of everything. Why was he fighting it? Why was he fighting dad’s will, still? What was the point? He could just give up. Lay down on the cool floor, close his eyes, and let the universe flow around him. Forget him. Let everyone else deal with it, and stop… stop _being_. How did they all do it? Amenadiel had never lost hope; he’d fallen and tried to get back into dad’s good graces and finally, he’d done it; he’d gone selflessly through the blaze to get Lucifer out without thinking of the danger he was in. He’d proved himself to be an angel by their father’s book, he supposed. And Maze, Maze had been so angry, and yet she’d found her place here. Made friends, found a job, got a home. And no one would take any of it from them.

And then here _he_ was, seeing every good thing that ever happened to him slip through his fingers like so much sand. So much ash. Getting everywhere, taunting him, and intangible; always there and yet never to be held. The Detective? It hadn’t been real. Sex, drugs and partying? No one cared beyond what he could give them, beyond the night of their life and the really good stuff. Music? Hah. He couldn’t play all the time, could he? Especially now, with the skin on his fingertips sometimes cracking and oozing when he played too hard or too long, slipping on the keys and leaving a pinkish sheen. Maybe food? But even that got old. His favourite suits chafed, he couldn’t stand to stay in the bath for more than a few minutes, he’d read all the books, watched and rewatched all the films. Everything hurt, except where he was numb. He didn’t know what was worse.

“What are you doing on the floor?”

Lucifer jerked and took his hands away from his face. “Det – Detective?” His voice sounded more breathless than he liked.

“Didn’t you get my message?”

“I did.”

“And did you read it?” She crouched next to him, a small smile on her lips that widened a little when he didn’t answer. “You didn’t, huh. So tell me, is the floor more comfortable than your couch?”

There was… there was no anger in her words, no fear. How could that be? She looked expectantly down at him, and he remembered she’d asked him a question. He had to give her an answer, to say something. He racked his brain; what was the question? What could he say? The floor. She’d said something about the floor. “It’s cool,” he finally mumbled. “And not sticky.”

“Ugh, yes; leather on naked skin is horrible. What about your bed though? Or the deck chairs outside? Too warm?” She sat on the floor, apparently intending to keep him company.

“Would you like a drink? Or, or something to eat?” He made to get up, but she put a hand right over his heart – hovering above his chest and not quite touching.

“I’m fine.” Her hand waved over him. “You look… Are you still in pain?” Why were they all obsessed with that? _You shouldn’t suffer, Luci. Can I touch you, Lucifer. Am I hurting you._ Sometimes, hurt felt better than anything else.

“I’m sorry I’m inflicting this appearance on you. I never wanted to. I just… can’t cover it up anymore, it seems. I tried to show you the truth once in the precinct, but…”

“Oh, I think I remember.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. He didn’t know what else to say.

“Sorry for what?”

“For… for hiding the truth, for being who I am, for hurting you, for imposing this on you, for…” He sighed. “I look like what I truly am, like the monster I am, and I… I didn’t want you to see that.”

“We’re not just what we look like, Lucifer. Or I’d just be another dumb SoCal blonde raised in Hollywood.”

How could she say that? He raised himself on an elbow, gesturing at her so vehemently she leaned back away from him. “You’re not – Detective, you’re so much more – how could anyone think – and your hair is lovely!” the words were all in his mouth, struggling to get out at the same time; and it left him almost panting. She delicately pushed his wrist down and inched closer to him, but – her cheeks were a little red, her eyes avoided him. She wasn’t comfortable around him, she was afraid and fighting it and – “you don’t have to stay. I’m sure your child would be better company than me at the moment.”

“She’s fine. Probably plotting something nefarious with Maze again.”

“You… don’t mind?”

“What, their plots?”

“That… Maze.”

Her expression softened. She cherished the little spawn, and every time she talked about her and he saw that unconditional love on her face he felt something unpleasant in his stomach. He didn’t think his mum had ever... but she was gone now. Gone forever. “Maze is surprisingly great with Trixie, and she’d kill anyone who’d try to hurt her. Why would I mind that?”

“She’s…”

“She is, and you are. What’s your point?” Her fingers had circled his wrist and were gently stroking his skin, gingerly at first then with a little more confidence. It felt… like nothing else mattered. “Have you put cream on that? It might help.”

“Cream?”

“You know, to soothe your skin.”

Oh. “Not sure there’s much skin left.” She frowned, but it was true. Why was she frowning?

“Lucifer, this isn’t a joke. You saved Dan, you don’t deserve… that.”

“I am the devil. God himself thinks I deserve that. So be it. Amen.”

“So what, are you not fighting your father anymore?”

“What’s the point? I’ll lose every time, won’t I?” He let his head fall back on the tiled floor with a thud that echoed in his skull. “Can’t fight god, can I.”

“So you’re just… giving up? You, Lucifer Morningstar, giving up?” She squeezed his wrist. “Where’s the idiot I know and…” Her voice petered out and she took a deep breath. “And love, in spite of all your efforts?” Oh. Oh no, she was still under his father’s influence after all. After these last few months he’d thought, he’d hoped she was free; but she wasn’t, was she? It explained why she wasn’t running away, why she was still here and calm and – “I can feel you panicking. What is it?”

“You – you – why? My dad, he…” But she wouldn’t believe him, would she? Not if he was manipulating her. He tried to explain anyway, but she put her finger over his lips.

“Shh.” He subsided, because what else could he do? “I always knew there was more to you than what you let me see, Lucifer. I just could never understand why you thought you had to hide so much. You saved my life, you saved Trixie’s, you saved Dan’s… What did you think would happen? I mean, yeah, I’m not totally comfortable with suddenly having to believe in…” Her hand drew a circle in the air. “In all of this, but I know you. I know what you’ve done. The good, the bad, the stupid. I’ve seen your best and your worst, I’ve seen you scared and happy, desperate and angry. I’ve heard you joke and I’ve heard you sing. I’ve kissed you, Lucifer. I don’t regret any of it. I want more.”

“You _think_ you want more.”

“I know I want more.” He opened his mouth, but she cut him off. “I make my own choices, and you know it. You’re just being self-destructive. Case in point, why didn’t you warn us when you went for Dan? Why did you set fire to the lab? Couldn't you just wait for the teams to get there and deal with it?” His eyes burned when she touched his cheek. Why was she touching him? What – “Instead you just got horrifically hurt. I know it happened before, but – do you think I’m okay with getting shot again just because it wouldn’t be the first time?”

“I didn’t think you’d be there so quickly,” he said faintly. Why was his voice so thin?

“Ah, yes. Maze explained a lot and you, Lucifer Morningstar, are much too reckless. And you really didn’t need to set fire to the place. What kind of fire was it anyway?”

He smiled a little. “Why, the very flames of hell.”

“Of course.” She rolled her eyes. “Well, nothing was left once the fire department finally put it out.”

“Good.”

“The scientists wanted to get their hands on some spider specimens, though.”

“They had to die.”

“Too dangerous to live?”

“That too.”

“What else then?” Her fingers kept trailing on his face, his neck, his chest. He wanted to capture them in his, to kiss them and cradle them and never let go. He didn’t move. He didn’t need any cream, just her touching him was enough to quiet the angry voices in his head, the little claws raking under his skin. He closed his eyes to remember it better.

“They were a tool of their creator, nothing more. They had no freedom, and their only purpose was to kill, and then to die. What kind of life was that?”

“Ella said they were genetically engineered to die right after injecting their venom.”

“They were weapons. It’s not a life, Detective. I should know. When you’re nothing but a tool…”

“And so you thought they should die?”

“There’s no other way out, when you can’t belong to yourself.” He stared at her, willed her to understand.

“Lucifer.” She sounded strange, but he couldn’t decipher the expression on her face. “Lucifer, why do you think you should die? Why do you think you’re just...” Her voice broke and her features crumpled.

What was wrong? He didn’t understand, what was happening? Was it the spawn? What else could make her cry? But she hadn’t checked her phone, how could she know? Was it a special mother-child bond that warned her? He tried to sit up again but she pushed him firmly back down. “Detective, if the offspring is in danger, you should…”

“What?”

“You’re… you’re… you’re crying!”

Her eyes widened, then she chucked rather wetly. “I’m sure she’s fine.” She took her phone from her jacket and checked it before showing him a picture. “See? No message since that photo Maze sent, um.” She peered at the screen. “Twenty minutes ago. they’re fine. I trust Maze.” He stared at her. She was a miracle, she was heaven-sent, she was full of light and strength and compassion; she was smart and strong and beautiful and he couldn’t let himself hope. He couldn't. “Lucifer. Say something. You’re scaring me, looking at me like that.”

“I – ” Afterwards, he wondered what he’d thought to answer. He didn’t think he had actually thought of anything, before the itch under his skin suddenly escalated into something else. He curled on his side with a whimper he swore he’d never admit to if he ever survived the onslaught of pain, like he was being torn to pieces and choking and squeezed to a pulp at the same time. He couldn’t breathe anymore, and there was nothing but –

pain –

a wheezing, hiccuping sound –

darkness –

tearing, tearing, tearing –

a blinding light –

something constricting –

fighting –

the floor hit him hard, and he slid a little on it.

He panted there for a while, while the memory of his flesh tearing apart, of the sounds it made, echoed in his head as it started to fade.

“Lucifer?” The voice wobbled. The voice – the Detective! He tried to raise his head to look around but everything was blurry and too bright and he closed his eyes again. Maybe she was just in his head, anyway. “Lucifer, you’re, um.” Or not.

“Mmh,” he managed.

“What happened?” That was a good question. “Can I touch you? It’s just, you look…” A rustling sound. “I’m going to touch you, alright? Help you up. Tell me if it hurts.”

He didn’t fight her, but he didn’t help her either; he felt weak like a… a noodle. He was too gooey to be a kitten, he decided; he could feel some sort of gunk covering him. He couldn't get a grip on the tiles, he kept slipping; and the crushing vise of her hands on his bicep was the only thing holding him vaguely up. Maybe he should give opening his eyes another try?

He blinked, wiped some more gunk from his face, looked away from the window and the sunlight pouring in; and finally he could see – “what is that?” _That_ was a… thing. Vaguely human- or angel-shaped, with a giant hole torn in – was it the back? – and mostly dark red in colour.

“It’s, ah, you.”

“Me? But I…”

“You, uh, sort of struggled out? Like a butterfly.” She smiled at him.

“Like a – that’s ridiculous, I’m not…” Her eyes left his face for something behind him, and he felt faint. There they were. Them. Again. He’d thought they’d burned away, that he was rid of them at last; but he wasn’t, was he? Expect this time… this time, they didn’t feel wrong, hey didn’t feel… alien to him. He tried to give an experimental flap, but he only managed to make a blob of goo land on the floor with a slap.

“Ew,” she said.

He didn’t say anything. He stared at his hand, pink like new skin and scar-free. He raised it, touched his face again; and now he wasn’t focused on clearing his sight he realized – no scar there, too. Hair, also covered in gunk. “This is disgusting,” he finally whispered.

“On to the shower, then. I hope we can get it out of your, ah. Wings, too. Can you stand up on your own?”

He tried to get his feet under him and slipped again and fell on his bum. “This is ridiculous,” he grumbled, but – she laughed, and she sounded so happy, and he felt his mouth stretch into a smile, too. He could do undignified, for her. He could do anything.

“How are you feeling?”

“Disgusting.” He looked at the shell of him, the dead, empty cocoon he’d fought out of. What did it mean? Had he escaped his father’s web? He didn’t think it was possible. He’d always been just a little fly, in the grand scheme of things – the _grand plan_. And yet… “Free.” Light. Light, like he couldn’t remember ever being. Light, like what he was supposed to be. He cupped his hands and there, in his palms, a little flame sprang out, grew, and didn’t burn. He blew on it and it floated away through the open windows and up into the air. Untethered. Buoyant. He could be anything he wanted, maybe even happy. At peace. The thought seemed both alien and within his grasp, if only he reached for it. He found that he wanted to, now.

Fingers slid on his jaw, turned his head away from the sky and oh, there was a much better view – blue blue eyes and such joy on her face and she was, she was, her lips touched his and she was. They were kissing, and the here and now was enough. Was everything.

 

 

 


End file.
